


A Sudden King Can Only Do So Much

by Metal_Gear_XANA



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: F/M, One-Shot, Other characters are simply mentioned, Pining, Post-RD, Taking place some months after Part 1 of RD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28270434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metal_Gear_XANA/pseuds/Metal_Gear_XANA
Summary: Micaiah/Pelleas, Post-RD.'Being a king, as it turns out, is overwhelming.'Months after Daein was freed from Bengnion's control, Pelleas, now coronated as king, struggles to be the ruler that his country deserves. He lacks charisma, menace, and strength to inspire his people. He shouldn't be the king.Yet Micaiah, a person who would be a far better suited ruler than he, thinks otherwise. Perhaps she can make some valid points to convince Pelleas that he is being too hard on himself, and that he has the makings to be a great king?
Relationships: Micaiah/Pelleas (Fire Emblem)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5
Collections: Fire Emblem Christmas Rare Pair Exchange 2020





	A Sudden King Can Only Do So Much

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Asdrator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asdrator/gifts).



A Sudden King Can Only Do So Much 

Merry Christmas to Asdrator, whom, as requested, 'Micaiah/Pelleas: I like them best when they’re set during the story of Radiant Dawn, and Pelleas works on becoming more confident in himself and others.' I hope you enjoy this fic, as I had enjoyed writing this magnificent ship!

* * *

Being a king, as it turns out, is overwhelming.

Not that Pelleas expected it to be easy, but… he never was brought up for such a prestigious position. Yes he is the son of the previous king (a tyrannical one…), yes he is the rightful successor, and yes he wishes, truly, with his entire soul, to rebuild Daein because he loves the people and this country… But he is not the ideal choice to rule.

During his time in exile he was taught everything to be a leader: the art of war, how to be charismatic to appeal to the masses, how to lie and manipulate, and how to be menacing when need be. But tried as he did, with all that he is capable of, to muster these skills, to be the leader Daein deserves, he could never grasp any of those points. Even now, months after his coronation, when he is presented with endless tasks to rebuild Daein, and with the assistance of General Tauroneo, a person with experience in the royal court, and Jill Fizzart, a witness to Crimea’s liberation and rebirth three years ago, he is still utterly useless.

Indigo eyebrows furrow in vitriolic disgust as he sits atop the throne in silence. By the Goddess how is it that he hasn’t slipped into his role!? One says that when someone is given the opportunity to try something they gain experience. Yet he feels as if he hasn’t earned any. Now he is sitting and fuming silently like a petulant child, instead of assisting Tauroneo in keeping order, his mother and Jill, from easing racial tensions towards the laguz, or Micaiah in maintaining morale. Useless, useless, _useless_ —

“Your Majesty?”

Startled the king jumps from his throne.

Now broken from his pessimistic ramblings he blinks inquisitively towards a figure of moonlight hair that stood to attention. Instantly recognising the person he manages to smile, truly smile with joviality, towards the friendly companion. Although exhausted as he must appear, with his baggy eyes and ruffled hair, he does hope he conveys through his eased posture and smile that he holds no grudge towards the woman for startling him. Wishing to make her feel more comfortable he comes to a stand and ushers her over.

“Micaiah! So wonderful to see a friendly face!” He greets with sincerity and honesty. There had been so many unfamiliar and solemn figures that have acquainted with him for the past months, so truly he feels a great sense of relief wash over him.

Yellow eyes gleam radiantly like the sun over the cold nights in Daein. Such eyes could have easily been ominous, intense, belonging to a foreboding figure like that of the late tyrant that was his father. The guiding light that is the Maiden of Dawn… those eyes really do suit the image associated with her.

Micaiah approaches, a saunter that is mesmerising in how it appears that her feet glide over the ground. Just her presence is enough for him to feel blessed, even if he feels so unworthy to be associated with her as a friend. It is most fortunate that her ever loyal and present shadow, Sothe, is not with her; that boy certainly despises him for being cowardly. Usually he would wish to have his mother’s guidance, but knowing how she, oddly enough, has some vitriolic disgust towards Micaiah, he internally thanks the Goddess that she is not here.

At the dais the silver haired woman curtsies, a sheepish look crossing her features. “My apologies for startling you,” she begins, an awkward yet devilish grin adorning her. Sometimes he forgets how playful she can be. “But the only other option would have been to sent Yune flying over to peck you to garner your attention!”

That earns a hearty chuckle from the tense king. From the corner of his eye he sees the orange bird perked on Micaiah’s shoulder. He smiles and waves to the animal, whom then chirps back with what sounded to him to be cordial greetings.

“Well I am glad you didn’t,” he acknowledges. Recalling that there must be a reason for her visit, considering he is a king that doesn’t have the luxury to dine with friends, he grows solemn. He tilts his head to the side. “Is there a pressing issue I must attend to?”

Micaiah waves her hands aside and shakes her head. “You have been busy enough, Your Majesty. I just wanted to check on you.”

Pelleas frowns at her formality. “Please, Micaiah; there is no need to call me ‘Your Majesty’. When it is just us please call me Pelleas.”

The way she beams at this brings a pink blush to his face. Many would have been outraged by his demand for casual attitude, and his mother would have ridiculed him for bringing himself to a ‘peasant’s’ level. 

A rueful smile and melancholic glint shines in his indigo eyes. “I suppose you came to see if I am a competent enough ruler.”

There is a mortified look that shatters his sombre mood. It is as if he said the most offensive thing to someone who did not expect it. Before he could correct himself or request a pardon for his ‘gaffe’ Micaiah rests a hand upon his shoulder. The taller person looks down with flabbergast as the smaller counterpart looks up at him with hurt. His heart flutters as she observes him with a fondness that made him awestruck when he met her for the first time.

“You belittle yourself all the time! It pains me to hear it,” Micaiah utters in a pained yet not admonishing tone. Her expression morphs to that of someone being extremely proud. “You have been doing a marvellous job.”

If it were anyone else Pelleas would have brushed such a comment as being sardonic, or being kind for the sake of pleasing the king. Instead he cannot help but blink stupidly at her. If anyone should be ruler of Daein it ought to be her. She is as charismatic as they come, a true beacon to the people like that of the Goddess. There is wisdom in her, the sort that anyone, commoner or noble, can seek guidance from and learn from it. She loves the people of Daein more than anything else, willing to taint her hands and reputation to bring longevity and prosperity to the country. Tradition of dynasty is what holds back Daein from having a marvellous leader.

One would think he would be jealous of Micaiah’s influence. Far from it: if anything he greatly admires her. Sometimes he is envious—who wouldn’t be in his position?—yet he never feels bitter, and somehow, even when _he_ feels unworthy, he senses that she delights in his company and adores it. Out of every person he has known or knows he finds himself most comfortable around her. The moment he laid eyes on her he felt a connection. The moment they spoke about their selfless love of Daein, regardless if the very same people would abhor them for being Branded, he knew that they are bonded for life.

“Surely you jest,” Pelleas speaks with a shake of his head.

“No, I do not,” Micaiah states plainly; there is no room for debate. “Rebuilding a country requires endless work and commitment, all that you have been doing.”

She takes her hand off his shoulder (he noticed that it was due to her losing balance on her tiptoes) and then ushers him to follow her. Curious he tags along with the silver-haired woman. They leave the throne room and pass through corridors, where a few guards bow, more so to the Maiden of Dawn than he, and soon they appear before one of the many balconies in the castle. Atop the balcony Micaiah gestures with a sweeping arc of her hand towards the snowy fields, where one could make out the shapes of people moving around. Pelleas leans over to observe the people of Daein—his people—assisting each other in rebuilding their towns. A few wyvern riders swooped around, no doubt watching out for potential hazards of buildings collapsing. The indigo haired man finds himself mesmerised by how everyone works together in unison, clockwork, every gear contributing to a noble cause. 

“It has only been a few months since Bengion left Daein, yet much progress has been achieved under your leadership,” Micaiah speaks, yet his attention is still towards the people. “Of course it will take quite some time, years even, until the fruits of your and everyone’s labour has been achieved.” 

Pelleas looks over to her and, upon seeing a snowflake fall against her ear, he instantly brushes it aside. Realising how intimate the gesture was he pulls back, flushed and spluttering his apologies, only for Micaiah to giggle (sheepishly?) and for her pallor cheeks to turn pink. She has a lovely laugh.

“You forget that you had only discovered that you are the legitimate heir until quite recently,” Micaiah continues as she turns to him. There is knowingness in her posture and expression. “No one expects you to fit into your role so easily and so soon.”

That is… that is true.

It is no secret to the people of Daein that he had only recently learnt of his heritage in this year. He had been quite open regarding his humble beginnings, excluding the fact that he is a Branded. Many, understandably, were sceptical of his abilities, only to learn that the Dawn Brigade was made up of common people, thence their doubts faded. Although unfamiliar with weapons, a contrast to his father, he managed, with the assistance of Micaiah, to eliminate Jarod and the governing power in Daein. The people then accepted him… not because he is the legitimate heir, but because they believe he is a suitable ruler. They give him a chance. Whether he deserves it or not… it will be reflected in his actions.

“The fact that you speak to the senators that came from the country that oppressed us… it is certainly something I wouldn’t be capable of doing!” Micaiah states, and he tries to assure her that, that isn’t true, only for her to shake her hand dismissively. “Not only is that commendable, but you have even opened talks with Crimea!”

She tilts her head and smiles knowingly and proudly at him, her yellow eyes gleaming mischievously yet, oxymoronically, kindly at him. “Do you not think it is impressive?”

“I…”

For the first time in a long time he is loss for words.

Everything she has said is not only true, but that he indeed has achieved such tasks. He hasn’t completed them, far from it, but it is, admittedly, an excellent start. Perhaps… perhaps he has been too harsh on himself. He recalls being told by Jill how she failed to save her people and father; he remembers Tauroneo believing he brought dismay to Daein, and how Micaiah laments on how she and the Dawn Brigade did nothing three years ago. It would seem that everyone, even those very figures he believes should not be so critical, believes they have failed in something. It is only human after all to be self-critical. Yet in the end people still achieve so much, even if they may not initially realise it.

He smiles, feeling a sense of pride that he cannot recall ever feeling. His eyes crinkle as he beams towards Micaiah. “It is impressive yes.” 

Carefully she takes his hand, and when she gazes up at him with a look so soft beyond human comprehension, his faces heats up and his heart flutters. “You have achieved so much in such a short span of time that it’s… it’s truly incredible.”

Oh how beautiful she looks with her cheeks pink like a dawn sky. He can’t help but stare at her, wanting to paint the details of her face and eyes until he will remember these features for eternity. Being around her always brightens his days; to have this connection with her is, although perhaps cliché of a term, magical. With his fingers he traces the Branded mark hidden under her glove, wishing to inform her that he cherishes her for being herself. Her smile, seemingly breaking the limits of her face, is so wonderful and contagious that he feels his own smile grown tenfold.

“With you by my side I know I can be the ruler that Daein needs.”

Oh…

Oh that sounded rather romantic…!

The way Micaiah’s eyes light up makes him splutter and retract his hand away, as if she is made of coal. Clearing his throat he tries to regain composure, yet the red cheeks and twitching eyebrow showcase the opposite. Even Micaiah, confident and always relaxed Maiden of Dawn, glances away and brings her hands to fidget around. Oh dear—oh he has made this awkward between them! Best to save face before she catches onto his feelings—his feelings!? Oh why deny it: he loves her. How can he not?

“Erm, yes, well—” find an excuse, Pelleas; you’re the king, find some task to attend to! “—I best attend to the Crimean envoy that visited yesterday! I must be certain that Daein’s stand and demands are clear to Crimea!”

Micaiah simply agrees with a nod. Thus the King of Daein power-walks away from the most frightening thing that one can ever experience: embarrassing yourself in front of someone you love. Yet as his humiliation fades he finds himself smiling proudly at the realisation that he may be doing a better job as the king than he initially had thought. 


End file.
